


you said yes as i said please

by NefariousMoss



Series: and although i was burning, you're the only light [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Absolutely Undone By Her Caleb, Clothed Sex, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Consensual Violence, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, Gratuitous Smut, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Held Down, Kissing, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Mild Painplay, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Put me in the sin bin, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Somewhat Soft!Dom Jester But Oh Man Does She Do It Well, Sub Caleb Widogast, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Well Okay SOMEWHAT Clothed Sex, if there's a god he'll make sure the cast NEVER SEES THIS, sort of you'll see, thigh grinding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-24 02:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NefariousMoss/pseuds/NefariousMoss
Summary: Caleb likes to be slapped.This is only a surprise to one of them. Caleb, of course, already knows what he likes. He may be shy when it comes to telling her, although they've both been teaching each other confidence over the past couple of months, and he may assume, for the first few weeks anyway, that anything he tells her will disgust her. It has taken a lot of kisses, and more than a few tactful reminders that Jester grew up in a literal brothel, to help him really get comfortable.But he's had experience, after all. He's got over a decade on her (even if, as she insists, fullyeleven yearsof that doesn't count since he wasn'treally there for it, Caleb,) and she's not his first.No, what surprises them both is how much Jester likes doing the slapping.





	you said yes as i said please

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is Neffie speaking! Thanks to my INCREDIBLE co-author [elsinorerose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsinorerose), especially for the premise of this fic, and for writing all the parts that have anything at all to do with plot/don't have to do with dicks. You are the wind beneath my wings.
> 
> Thanks also to [bringyouhometoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringyouhometoo), our resident Zemnian expert. 
> 
> [Follow me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/NefariousMoss) and [on Tumblr](https://nefariousmoss.tumblr.com/) for more Widojest nonsense! I'm NefariousMoss on all platforms.

Caleb likes to be slapped.

This is only a surprise to one of them. Caleb, of course, already knows what he likes. He may be shy when it comes to telling her, although they've both been teaching each other confidence over the past couple of months, and he may assume, for the first few weeks anyway, that anything he tells her will disgust her. It has taken a lot of kisses, and more than a few tactful reminders that Jester grew up in a literal brothel, to help him really get comfortable.

But he's had experience, after all. He's got over a decade on her (even if, as she insists, fully _eleven years_ of that doesn't count since he wasn't really _there_ for it, _Caleb,)_ and she's not his first.

No, what surprises them _both_ is how much Jester likes doing the slapping.

She's staring down at him, straddling his waist — both of them still clothed, although he's shrugged the front of her dress down around her shoulders to kiss her breasts — and he's staring back up at her, and there's a _beat,_ while his left cheek slowly blooms scarlet where her hand made contact a moment ago —

"...Huh," says Jester.

Caleb tries to say something. It doesn't work.

"That was…" Jester holds up her hand and wiggles her fingers a little, like she's never really seen it before. Her palm is still stinging. "I didn't know it could do that."

With something between a cough and stifled _hum,_ Caleb manages to get out, "What, hit someone?"

"I mean...not like _that."_

His grip on her thighs tightens almost imperceptibly. "We've learned something today."

"We have." She can't stop staring at his cheek. "We, uh...we have."

His grip tightens even more.

Jester clears her throat. "Uh...you're sure I didn't hurt you, yeah?"

Traveler help her, but she swears his eyes get _darker._ "That was a little bit the point, wasn't it?" he says, with that tiny corner of a smile that she loves so much.

"Oh, well right, but...you know…"

 _I don't want to hurt you_ too bad, _Caleb,_ is what she's trying to say, but everything is getting a little _deliciously uncomfortable_ and it's hard to think straight. She shifts her hips slightly, feels him respond, wonders if she hit his other cheek if she could get both sides of his face to match, like when he's blushing hard, like that first time he kissed her...

"Doesn't matter if you hurt me," Caleb is murmuring, his eyes fixed on her face, reading her mind as usual — "you know you have magical powers, _vergissmeinnicht,_ you can just heal me like that." He takes one hand off her thigh to snap his fingers. It's the loudest sound that's been in this room since she slapped him, and it makes her heart jump.

"You're sure? Because you know I am very strong."

Now his fingers are digging in. "That is also a little bit the point," he whispers.

Jester grins and rocks her hips against him again in response. Caleb groans. She leans in to him, so that her lips are next to his ear and says softly:

“Just remember that technically, you asked for this.” One of her hands drifts down and tweaks his nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt with a giggle.

“Not just technically, blueberry,” he says, his voice rough. “I _did_ ask. I am...I am all yours.”

“I like the sound of that,” she says, placing her right hand gently on the side of his face as she leans in to kiss him, deep and familiar and intense.

Caleb barely has the chance to lock eyes with her as she pulls away before the same hand that cradled his face is striking him, _CRACK_ ,  hard and firm against his cheek.

That gorgeous bright flush rises under his skin, and Jester notices it with equal parts prideful pleasure and mild concern.

“You look like you’re getting a little hot,” she  purrs. “Trust me, I’m a very good healer, I know what to do.”

“And what is that, _meine liebe?_ ” Caleb replies, raising his face to hers. She leans down and places a tender kiss against his stinging cheek.

“Liberate you from some of these clothes.”

Jester’s hands work quickly to undo the buttons of his shirt while her lips leave scorching kisses on every newly exposed patch of skin. She moves her hips as she works, languidly grinding against the hardness of him, slowing her movement even more the closer her hands and lips get to his waistband.

It’s excruciating. It’s exquisite.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Caleb helps Jester remove the shirt. The moment he’s free, he wraps his arms around her, bare flesh against bare flesh, and envelopes her in a kiss.

“Caleb…” Jester murmurs as his lips move to her jawline, to her neck, to her breasts.

Something akin to a growl emanates from his throat. “What is the matter, _liebling_?” he says into her collarbone.

He looks up at her, eyes hazy and unfocused with arousal, and a jolt of _holy fuck_ lights up every single one of Jester’s nerve endings. _Imagine him looking up at me like that from between my legs,_ she thinks, and a tiny moan escapes her lips without her permission. The sound snaps her back to the present.

She raises Caleb’s head with two fingers under his chin, then pushes him back against the bed. The flat of her palm collides with his cheek. Caleb _writhes_ underneath her, and Jester didn’t know a person could _really_ writhe in pleasure, or pain for that matter, but all it takes is witnessing it once for her to know she’d like to see him do _more of that, please._

“I thought we agreed that I am the one in charge here,” she says, raising an eyebrow at a somewhat stunned-looking Caleb. He nods emphatically.

“Ja, it’s...all you, blueberry,” he says, raising a hand to rake his fingers through her hair. Jester slaps it away, then moves like lightning to pin both his hands with her own on either side of his head.

Caleb swallows, _hard._

“Did I say you could touch me?” Jester purrs, her breath tickling his ear. She can feel him underneath her, so hard he’s straining against his trousers. She wriggles a little just to tease, and his hips buck up instinctually, animalistically to meet hers.

Jester tuts her tongue.

“Someone’s having a little trouble _submitting to my will._ Maybe all Nott’s talk of your leadership has gone to your head.” She swirls her hips against him, pairing the movement with a breathy little moan into his ear, and Caleb’s wrists strain against her hands. “Well, one head or the other,” she giggles.

“Please…” he pants. “Do not…bring up Nott...right now…”

 _CRACK._ Another slap, and Jester can feel it radiate throughout his entire body, the way he tenses and then relaxes beneath her, a moment of pain followed by waves of pleasure.

“I am pretty sure you’re in no position to give orders,” she says with a devilish, knowing tilt of her head. She reaches down and feels him over his now painfully tight trousers, and _fuck, Caleb, you’re_ so _hard._

“Harder,” he gasps, and Jester knows exactly what he means, but instead she tightens her grip on the outline of his cock and feels him twitch. Her fingers find his fly, undoing the buttons there as quickly and deftly as she can, though her hand is close to shaking she's so eager to wrap it around him.

 _"Scheisse,"_ she hears him hiss under his breath as soon as he's free and she's got him in her fist, the same one that she's been hitting his pretty face with, that's still tingling from impact, and she thinks, _yeah, scheisse, that's right, Caleb,_ before she leans all the way in and whispers right into his mouth,

“Harder? I don’t know."

Then her lips are on him, deep and wet, she's running her tongue against his length so she can taste him, and Caleb utters a fevered string of Zemnian that Jester thinks she can safely assume is mostly curse words. She sucks the tip hard before removing her mouth with an obscene _POP._

“You seem pretty fucking hard already.”

“Get up here,” he growls, and her hand is working him, her thumb cresting over the head of his cock each time her hand rises. He lunges forward for her, but is met with a slap in the face so hard it sends him reeling back onto the cushions behind him. “ _Fuck._ ”

Then Jester is straddling him, his cock still held tight in one hand as she hovers over it, skirts raised.

“What did I say about giving orders?” she says. She leans in and kisses him deep, and the motion makes her bare cunt graze the tip of him, just enough for him to feel how hot she is, and he whimpers. “What did I say about touching me without ex- _pli_ -cit permission?”

 _“Ja, geliebte,”_ he whispers, and then she lowers her hips slowly but persistently, taking all of him.

Oh, but this is good. _He_ is good. Jester lets her eyes drift shut in pleasure and concentration as she rides him, slowly, truly _feeling_ him, so familiar, so _known,_ that she doesn't have to look at him to know what he's doing: digging his fingers into the sheets, forcing himself not to steady her with his hands on her thighs or turn the tables on her so that she’s beneath him. He's breathing hard, mouth shut, eyes shut, too, she's sure, trying not to lose it then and there — she can feel his chest rising and falling rapidly under her palm, and it occurs to her to wonder whether he's as flushed there as her slaps have made his face.

Her eyes open, and he's staring at her, like she's seen him staring at arcane runes, at his spellbook, at artifacts of power: like she's magic, like he's _hungry._

He deserves a reward for looking at her like that. So she hits him. Twice.

“I want to hear you,” she growls, quickening the pace of her hips rising and falling on his cock.

"Backhand," he manages to gasp, and this time when her hand cracks across his face Caleb makes a _noise_ that until now Jester was pretty sure only happened in actual smut books. She’s flooded with arousal, until she notices how her fingernails left a row of scrapes against his cheek, smarting with blood in the moments after impact. _Ah, shit._

“Oh, Caleb,” she murmurs. “Too much?”

She reaches up to heal him, but he shakes his head wildly.

“Just enough, _liebling,"_ he breathes.

She grins, "Good," just trails her fingertips over the spot, enjoys how he shudders — and then leans away, bracing herself with both arms behind her, lets her head fall back and gives him a show as she fucks him. He can watch himself inside her, now, there are some things he doesn't have to tell her he likes, some things she doesn't have to tell _him,_ like how if she keeps moving on him like this, there won't be much time for her to —

“Can I touch you?” he asks, and she hums with satisfaction, or maybe desperation — maybe they're one and the same, right now. “Please, _liebling_.”

Jester licks her lips and slows her pace, making Caleb clench his fists against the bed.

“Beg.”

“Jes—”

“I want you to _beg_.” Her left hand comes up and backhands him, again, this time drawing blood on his lip. His smirk of pleasure turns into a grin, and as usual, that smile almost undoes her.

“Please,” he obliges her, in a voice altogether too low and soft to be fair, “please, _bitte,_ I...I have to touch you...I want to make you…fuck, please, I need you, need to touch you, I need, I…” Jester leans forward and bounces her ass up and down on his cock rhythmically. He curses in Zemnian again, and it’s _loud_ , and Jester _loves_ it.

“You need…?” she teases.

Caleb moans, wordless and desperate.

“I didn’t _quiiite_ catch that.”

“ _Fuck,_ Jester, I’m not going to last much longer with you...like this... _please._ ”

Jester kisses him, hard, sneaking her tongue into his mouth, then pulls away. He whimpers, she grins.

“Fuck me, Caleb,” she says, and that’s all he needs. He bolts upright so that she’s still straddling him but he can kiss her, move against her, drag his fingernails across her bare back to make her shudder. Their lips collide together, passionate and messy, as Jester bucks her hips against him, so needy.

“Caleb,” she whimpers, leaning back and feverishly gathering her skirts in her hands so he can touch her. His right hand finds her clit as his left hand entangles itself in her hair, his thumb draws lazy circles over her, causing her to utter noises he’s never heard her make before, and Jester has _always_ been noisy.

“You like that, _vergissmeinnicht?"_ he whispers.

Jester nods, but her eyes are closed, her mouth open and frozen in the shape of a moan.

“I...I like that,” she says. How is it she feels like she can't move and can't stop moving at the same time? “Oh my god, I like that, I...fuck, Caleb, you rubbing me with your cock inside me, I —”

He presses his thumb harder against her, more insistently. She’s bouncing on his cock, but her movements are becoming erratic, and the more she bucks against him the more he teases her, flicking his finger against her only to surprise her with more, harder, faster.

“Are you going to come for me?” he asks, and she can’t even respond, she’s so close to the edge. She’s vaguely aware that she’s making noise, that she can feel his thick, hard cock throbbing inside her as she moves, but all the language is gone. “I want you to come for me, _liebling._ ” He goes back to circles against her clit, steady and consistent and _fuck, she’s so close, she's_ —

“Caleb — ” she moans, digging her nails into his thigh as she moves faster and faster, desperate for release. With his free arm he pulls her close, so their foreheads are pressed together, and he starts to thrust upward, into her, _hard._

“Caleb — fuck, _Caleb!”_ Jester cries, and she lets go, her orgasm rippling through her as he pounds her, his thumb still rubbing against her clit to ensure she rides out every single wave of pleasure that’s sweeping over her. The noises she’s emitting, she's vaguely, distantly aware, are —

“Fuck, Jester,” Caleb groans. “I’m close — I’m — fuck, _scheisse — "_

“Please,” she pants. She’s clinging to him as she’s coming down, her head pressed against his sweat-dappled shoulder, and when she looks up at him his eyes are dark and lust-hazy and she _feels_ it in the aftershocks sizzling down her spine. “Inside me, Caleb, it’s okay.”

 _Please_ — _inside me, Caleb._ It’s enough to do him in. He groans, and it’s the most incredible sound Jester has ever heard. She bucks her hips back against his thrusts and watches his face change as the pleasure washes over him.

 _"Gottverdammt, ich liebe dich,_ I’m com—”

Her hand strikes him across the face and he loses control.

This is nowhere near the first time Jester has had the chance, the _privilege,_ to watch Caleb fall apart like this, but — well, _like this_ is the point, this is _staggering._ Caleb, who will bite into the back of his own hand rather than make too much noise, which she knows, to him, means anything much above a normal speaking voice — Caleb _shouts,_ and then his face is buried in the crook of her neck and he’s groaning and cursing and _filling_ her, and if only he would lay back so she could hit him one last time, because she's moaning too, feeling him pulsate inside her, they have _definitely_ learned something new today, and for a split second she wonders if she’s going to come _again —_

But the moment is over, far too soon, and Caleb is panting, holding her, and that last little mote of possibility fades away as Jester wraps her arms around him and feels him do the same, his fingers dragging, fumbling, against her shoulder blade and the small of her back.

They rest. Caleb clings to her as he gets his breath back. He's stronger than he gives himself credit for, thinks Jester, reveling a little in his embrace, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair. Not that he could pin _her_ down on a mattress, of course — although, well. She feels her own pulse pick up slightly even as she's still coming down from before. Well. She could always _let_ him.

Could let him do a lot of things, actually. They might learn even more.

"You," sighs Caleb into her neck, pulling back just enough to start pressing kisses to her skin there, "must be the most beautiful thing alive. You are a fucking force of nature."

"I'll say," she grins, gently tugging at his hair so that she can tip back his head and press her lips to his cheekbone, his jaw, his throat. "You're gonna have, like, a _bruise."_

"Mmm, probably." His eyes flutter shut. "One or two."

Jester pushes him all the way down until his head is back in the pillows and she's lying on top of him, before rolling off, wiping away the sweat that's threatening to get in her eyes. "You don't mind that idea at all, do you, _Caleb."_

"Well — " Caleb rolls onto his side, props himself up on one elbow to look down at her. "Not in theory, no, not at all, except that we share this mansion with five other people who will absolutely, definitely notice."

He's smirking, trailing the tip of one finger in circles around one of her curls before tucking it behind her ear, and Jester is reminded, with just that little motion, of all the other new things she has been learning from Caleb, ever since that day when they first kissed in the library, not so long ago: how someone can be sexy and tender in the same moment, how friendship can flare bright and swift into passion, how it feels to start laughing so hard with someone in bed that the sex has to be put on pause for a full five minutes while you both recover. Things she knows he has been learning from her in return. Because Caleb knows what he likes, it's true, but neither one of them really ever expected to be _loved._

"Hmm." Jester pokes his cheek, and he gives a little _hiss_ of pain. "This is very noticeable, yes. Unfortunately I am all out of spell slots! What a shame."

His eyes narrow. "You were all ready to heal me five minutes ago, when — "

"I know, I was completely forgetting," she lies, unable to resist a giggle. "How silly of me. We'll have to wait till tomorrow!"

"No, hold on — "

"I'm going to go get a drink of water," she announces, and before Caleb can stop her she's clambering out of bed, pulling her dress back on properly, moving towards the bedroom door.

"You are not — Jester — " Caleb sits straight up, bedsheets tangled around him. "Everyone will see, how am I supposed to leave this — _Jester —_ "

She shuts the door behind her, grinning, and decides, hmm...she'll give him twenty minutes, just enough to let him really panic a little. Time for her to get that glass of water, grab another contraception charm, maybe fish out that lacy thing from her bottom drawer that Caleb hasn't seen yet and just show up wearing it with no warning, see what _that_ will do to his face.

Just twenty minutes, though. Then she's coming back for round two.

_fin_


End file.
